Author: Elena

Categories
cannabis meditation yoga

Are Yoga & Cannabis Frenemies?

Plant and practice share a rich history as spiritual and healing modalities, but does yogic philosophy truly support cannabis for long term wellness? Let’s explore further.

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Ground up cannabis leaves soaked into a psychoactive paste, served straight-up or steeped in hot flavored milk. You’ve got options on Holi Day, India’s largest spiritual festival of the year dedicated to Lord Shiva. Perhaps you want to celebrate Shiva, known as Lord of Ganja and the founder of Yoga by getting stoned, escaping stress, and laughing with friends. Or maybe you consume the sacred plant to achieve yogic union with the divine the way Shiva followers have done for thousands of years.

Starting nearly 3,500 hundred years ago, Indians transcribed spiritual revelations from gods like Lord Shiva in the first books of Hinduism and Yoga. In these books, known as the Vedas, you’ll find Lord Shiva linked with a miraculous substance called soma, which many believe to mean cannabis. As one myth goes, Shiva consumed cannabis to recover from a deadly poison that he drank to save the universe. Shiva’s also known as the first deity to define yoga as the divine union between mind, body, and spirit.

Lord Shiva is one example of the undeniable link between yoga and cannabis, yet a debate exists that dates back to the laws of ancient Hinduism. Is cannabis a tool for yogic enlightenment or is it a means for recreational escape? While India is tolerant and even promotes marijuana for spiritual use, you won’t find one official branch of yoga that endorses it.

But maybe the question of yogic union with the divine does not resonate with you. Maybe you’re stressed out, chronically tired, sometimes in pain and in need of alternatives to prescription drugs. What does yogic tradition say about cannabis as a tool for medicine?

Thousands of years ago, healthcare theories were transcribed in to the Vedas which formed yoga’s original medical system—Ayurveda. If you subscribe to Ayurvedic theory, you believe that cannabis can treat a variety of conditions, from pain to epilepsy, depression, appetite issues, and difficulty focusing. But Ayurveda stops short of labeling cannabis as a miracle drug. Instead, yoga’s ancient healthcare system warns that marijuana use must have an end date because habitual consumption will numb the mind and body. Ultimately, Ayurveda’s support for cannabis is as undeniable as it is conditional.

Ayurvedic theory on cannabis is a perfect metaphor for the yoga-canna debate because like most theories, Ayurveda was created with shades of gray. Similarly, yogic perspective is not black and white either. The 90-minute sweat fest you know as yoga today has evolved alongside humans for centuries.

While the practice began as a set of moral disciplines and prayers to achieve divine union, hundreds of years later yoga changed when its leaders invented seated postures. You may know them as hip openers. A few centuries after that, modern day yogis developed down dogs, chaturangas, vinyasas, and yes, your favorite—hot yoga.

Today yoga is a hybrid of all of the above iterations and the practice intersects with cannabis use throughout the world. Depending where you live, you can easily find marijuana-fueled spiritual retreats and chakra workshops, along with CBD-infused skin salves on every studio shelf. Real people are using yoga and cannabis to heal, have fun, and look within for higher purpose.

So maybe the answer to the question, “how does yoga feel about cannabis?” doesn’t really matter. Yoga is not a person. It’s a philosophy and set of practices based on textual revisions written by imperfect humans. Yoga is the quest for peace and transcendence that can be effectively or mindlessly paired with cannabis use: The X factor may just be your intention.

Categories
meditation Personal growth yoga

My Journey Through Yoga’s 8-Limb Path

Elena Schmidt Yoga

A reflection on strengths and imperfections along the path to self-actualization

Until the age of 23, I never considered the idea of enlightenment. Instead I lived for enjoyment—in search of great friendships and even better memories. Despite my laissez-faire lifestyle, I always felt a nudge towards yoga. The nudge lingered for years before I did anything about it.

Yoga seemed physically demanding and unaffordable. I decided these were sufficient reasons not to try, until the day I came across a program at my alma mater. At a discounted alumna rate of $65 per semester, yoga was suddenly accessible—and I was suddenly out of excuses.

When I finally stepped on the mat, I had no idea that I was practicing only 1 of 8 foundational tenants of yoga. Or that yoga itself evolved as a spiritual pursuit, not a physical exercise. I worked my butt off on the mat for six years before I learned that yoga has been developing for thousands of years.

I was intrigued to discover that somewhere between the 4th and 5th century B.C., Indian scholar Patanjali authored the Yoga Sutras, the foundational text of Ashtanga yoga. (There are many evolutions of yoga, but that’s a story for another essay). In the Sutras, Patanjali outlined the 8 Limb path, which are the ethical practices and philosophies required to achieve spiritual enlightenment—and freedom from suffering.

[table td2=”Patanjali’s 8 Limb Yoga Path” td3=”Patanjali’s 8 Limb Yoga Path”]  [td2]  [/td2] [td3]

  • Yamas – Ethical guidelines for interactions with others and one’s self. The yamas include ahimsa (nonviolence and self-love), satya (truthfulness), asteya (non-stealing), brahmacharyna (fidelity), and aparigraha (non-coveting).
  • Niyamas – Ethical practices to inform personal ethics. The niyamas include saucha (cleanliness), santosha (contentment), tapas (self-discipline), svadhyaya (spiritual study), and ishvara pranidhana (divine surrender).
  • Asana – Physical postures. Asana initially consisted of seated postures, which were used to prepare the body to sit for long periods in meditation. Today, asana consists of standing and seated poses, which make up the 90-minute sweat fests you know and love today.
  • Pranayama – Breathing practices designed to consciously control the breath. Prana is the word for “life force.” Yogis believe that pranayama leads to improved concentration, focus, and purpose.
  • Pratyahara – Practice of withdrawing from external stimuli through seated meditation. Pratyahara is said to improve awareness beyond sense driven reactions and self-obsession.
  • Dharana – Practice of intense concentration, usually focusing on one object. The purpose is to train the mind in stillness devoid of distraction.
  • Dhyana – Dhyana is the state of total awareness, without judgement or attachment to external stimuli. It is the sense of peace that is sometimes referred to as flow state.
  • Samadhi – Samadhi is a state of ecstasy, transcendence and connectivity with the divine. It is the total integration of mind and body achieved by mastering the limbs of yoga.

[/td3] [/table]

I had no idea that I was practicing asana, which was originally used to relax the mind and open the body in preparation for seated meditation. When I first began yoga asana, I only knew that I loved how my body felt during and after class. I also realized that I was learning to connect breath with movement and gaining more flexibility and endurance. I felt healthier than ever, but I had no idea that I would soon experience mental benefits as well.

Eventually I wanted to mix things up, so I decided to try a hot yoga studio. From that day on, my practice transformed. The 95-degree heat forced me to deal with extreme discomfort. I wanted to run screaming out of the studio, but I was also determined to stay—mostly out of fear of embarrassment rather than noble resolution.

Nevertheless, I narrowed in on my breath, inhale by exhale, one breath at a time for the entire class. In that 60 minutes, I got my first taste of dharana, the limb of focused attention. I managed to stay on the mat—albeit lying in shavasana for one-third of class—and walked out that evening with a heightened sense of clarity that I will never forget. The memory of that fleeting transcendence has helped sustain my practice for years, despite periods of plateau. Through heated asana, I learned to recognize the urge to turn away from discomfort as it arose in real time.

Previously, events that did not look, taste or feel the way I expected, threw my mind into disarray. Sense rattling incidents like traffic jams, disappointing meals, or tripping and falling felt catastrophic. Today, I can say that is no longer the case. In addition to asana, I began to practice pratyahara—seated mindful meditation—which helped to disconnect from my mental default mode. Through asana and pratyahara, I’ve learned to observe disappointment and either choose to let it go or find a way to release it much more quickly.

While meditation has helped free my mind from trivial reactions, my brain still holds on to past traumas, thoughts, and fears of the future. I have not found a way to live with total contentment as outlined by the niyama state of shaucha. I still on hold on to memories from past as though they are objective threats to my current self. And for a while, I held onto the identity that I was an employee—not an entrepreneur. According the niyamas, practicing asana is one integral method to free one’s self from this mental ailment. Tapas, or a disciplined commitment to letting go of mental attachment is another method.

Since my hot yoga aha moment, I always believed asana and pratyahara could be magic pills of shaucha. I refused to listen to the voice that hinted, I had more work to do. Over the years yoga and meditation have helped reveal an inner voice that whispered I wasn’t pursuing my soul’s deep desires for meaningful work. I heard the whispers, but I still tried desperately to shut her up with more yoga and meditation. I had a great job by all standards, and I was angry at myself for not being grateful for that job. I thought, how could I be so unappreciative?

So, I practiced more yoga. I sat longer in meditation. But the more I practiced the louder the voice spoke. The war raged on in my mind and my inner dialogue became cruel. I struggled with the rule of ahimsa and I spoke to myself and others harshly. Subsequently, the relationship I was in ended and I suddenly realized if I didn’t start loving myself, I could never truly love someone else. And I could only start loving myself, if I truly started allowing my mind, body and soul to unite.

Today, I am showing up on the mat, meditation pillow and in life with a different outlook. Instead of relying on asana and pratyahara to fix me, I am utilizing the practices to help listen to that inner voice. I quit my job and here I am writing and teaching yoga. I see samadhi somewhere in my distant future, but for now I’m an imperfect student walking the path towards contentment and self-love (ahimsa). I only hope that a year from now, my greatest challenges will be my greatest strengths along this humbling path.    

Categories
Personal growth

Finding Purpose as a Jack of All Trades

I was listening to the Tim Ferris Show podcast one morning on a run. It was the “Tools of Titans” episode, which featured quotes from interviews with writer and entrepreneur, Derek Sivers. I listened and nodded at Sivers’s words of wisdom but stopped mid stride when he mentioned the Buridan’s Ass Paradox.

As the story goes, a desperately hungry donkey faces a major dilemma. The donkey stands exactly midway between two identical piles of hay—lost in indecision. He never chooses, and eventually dies of starvation.

The story caught my attention because my old boss—the editor-in-chief of a magazine I worked for—told me a different version of the same tale several years earlier. Her purpose for telling it and my subsequent reaction say a lot about the journey I’m on today.

After my first year at the magazine, I didn’t grow in any particular role and lost interest in proving my worth. I started as a junior writer and editor. Eventually I managed writers and print deliverables. Later I jumped into digital marketing. The editor-in-chief saw me as a generalist with no real value.

She called me into her office one day and said, “do you know the fable of the salty penis darling?” “No,” I said. She replied—and I am paraphrasing—“a naked man straddles the ocean with one foot touching land on either side. He can’t choose a side and eventually falls into the saltwater. Hence the salty penis. That’s you darling. You’re like the man with the salty dick.”

I stood there stunned trying to hide the horror I felt, but it was written all over my face. I was embarrassed, offended and full of disdain for a woman I blamed for making me feel miserable.  She concluded by telling me that I was a jack-of-all-trades and a master of none. Ouch.

I still think of her with less than fuzzy feelings, but I look back on that experience differently now. She was right. I was a generalist. I worked hard, but I lacked purpose, so I adapted to changing needs to prove my worth. I took on new roles and exceled without passion, eventually plateauing. Ultimately, I failed to become an SME (subject matter expert) as they like to say in the corporate world.

After I left the magazine, I got a job at a beauty manufacturer. I started there as a content writer, later became a project manager, and eventually a sales manager. I continued to take on different roles and justified it by saying that I liked randomness, adventure and change. That was all true, but it wasn’t not the whole story.

I also have a deep desire for passion and purpose. Change makes life interesting and I’m committed to it, but I’ve also used it to distract myself from what I really want.

I’ve always loved to write but didn’t feel I had anything to say. I didn’t’ think I lived a life worth scribing so I focused on climbing the corporate ladder instead. I thought to myself, if I don’t have a grand plan, purpose, or thesis, I should probably keep my pen to myself. I’m just a person with an occasional knack for words.

I internalized the generalist message for so long and allowed it to dictate my professional career—until recently. 5 weeks ago I quit my job to start freelance writing and teaching yoga. I don’t have every milestone mapped, but I’m doing it anyway.

So, to all the donkeys, dicks, and jacks out there, there’s nothing wrong with you. Life is not about finding one singular focus at the expense of all curiosity. Want to know what life is about? I have no idea, but I am on a mission to peel back the layers until I get to the essence of who I truly am. In the process, I hope to inspire you to do the same.